Chapter Text
Becoming friends with Gary was like betting on a losing game, or walking across a field full of landmines. In Jimmy’s case it was more so giving up his bodily autonomy to a mad scientist, willingly. Gary Smith was an enigma he couldn’t even begin to understand, even if he really tried, but it’s not like Gary made it easy. He played with his mind and strapped himself to Jimmy’s soul, the impact of being on that rooftop still lingering through bruises on his skin and wrinkles on his brain.
He lays limp in the dorm lobby where he first met the bastard. He’s sitting on the couch, time and daylight long discarded. Jimmy watched as some asylum orderlies moved all of Gary’s stuff out of his dorm and he stays staring at that dorm like he’s waiting for him to just… walk out. Like nothing happened, like they didn’t try to kill each other a few days ago, like Gary hadn’t betrayed him.
He tilts his head back and groans, clutching the sides on his face as he drags his hands down. He should not be thinking of Gary this much but how could he not? Being–quite literally–at each other's throats nearly all school year. His sense of drive diminishing slightly, with no Gary, who even was Jimmy? He nearly slaps himself for even daring to let that thought cross his mind.
Gary and Jimmy were not friends.
Gary made that very clear.
But…
What about the times alone?
Halloween was always a drag for Jimmy. I mean, it did give him a reason to leave his house, away from his stupid stepfather of the month and away from his complicated feelings about his mom. He even got candy while he was out! Well, until he showed up here, fucking Bullworth Academy. Worst school of the year for the worst son of the year, Thanks Mama Hopkins!
Gary shows up again.
Halloween was.. fine.. this year. Not the worst, in fact, he might’ve had more fun pranking people with sociopathic Gary and a reluctant Pete than he did fighting people for candy in the years before. He remembers seeing Gary, just, laying on his bed, as if he felt like he belonged there.
He didn’t, of course, but Gary always had a way with inserting himself into people’s lives like they owed him something. He still remembers the way the makeup brush felt across his face, it was so girly, girly-est thing he’s ever done and yet Gary didn’t say anything.
True, it was just face paint but he thinks deep down Gary felt girly for doing it too.
Jimmy didn’t ask where he got the makeup from.
After they ran out of the school building, screams and concerned yelps of the Bullworth faculty were ringing his head. His hand gets dragged by Gary as he cackles and leads them back towards the Boys’ Dorm, dodging prefects in the process.
Fuck Halloween. Jimmy thinks as he glares at the closed door and walks towards his own dorm room. His door shuts and he body slams himself onto his bed, head in his hands as his thoughts betray his need to sleep. His knuckles whitening as he holds onto his buzzed head.
He remembers the first time Gary betrayed him. Walking underneath the school, naively following him towards his doom. Jimmy thinks that maybe he already knew he was walking into a trap. Gary always knew what to say. Whether it was to get Jimmy to do this stupid task or get this even more stupid thing, he always knew how to make him feel cared for, in a way.
“I know you’ve said all that stuff about me behind my back.”
“What are you talking about?”
Gary was always paranoid; Jimmy could see that. No one seeks control of an entire establishment without thinking there’s someone or something out to get them. He still remembers how it felt when Russell slammed his head onto the floor or rammed him into the concrete walls.
“–Now I hate you!”
Jimmy wasn’t a good liar, he never was, but he hoped that maybe Gary believed him when he said that. He hoped that it’d hurt Gary as much as it hurt Jimmy. Despite all of it though, he still stuck around Gary. He didn’t even have a reason to, he didn’t have to be near Gary at all actually. In a twisted sense of selfishness he wanted to be the one person Gary could rely on, to talk to.
His room feels lonely.
It’s actually quite cluttered. Pictures of women, science kit, old t-shirt, and other random trinkets or posters that lay across his dorm. He remembers the first time Gary walked into his dorm at an ungodly hour. It was late to the point the moon was high in the sky, the sun long gone as well as its comforting presence; he never cared for the dark. Gary said nothing–just, sat in the room. Faces only occasionally illuminated by the pale moonlight. He’d sit up and they’d look at each other.
Jimmy didn’t like the night and Gary didn’t like being alone.
They’d sneak around to town, ducking prefects and late night officers probably not suspecting kids to be out at three in the morning in their pajamas. He doesn’t remember the last time they did that. The last month of school was a mess, a pain if anything.
Gary was a wreck, everyone knew that, Jimmy’s just the only one still dwelling on it. He’s seen Happy Volts, he knows what they do. There’s a small pit still buried in him that hopes they take it easy on Gary, hopes that Gary tries to get better. However, he knows that’s more than unlikely.
Why did Gary just never talk to him? He can’t recall every single time he opened to Gary about his mom and stupid stepfathers of the month all those late nights, he’s never realized Gary never said anything about his own home life. Albeit maybe a small comment about his dad, but it was so small and insignificant he didn’t see it as anything.
Should he have pressed him more on it? All he ever said was that his dad was an asshole, ‘...like all adults, my friend. You should know that more than anyone.’ He’d add on. Jimmy loudly sighs and turns over in his bed, body curled and pillow crushed in his arms.
What was Gary’s dad like? Did he even have a mom? Sometimes, Jimmy believes that Gary was the spawn of Satan sent to torture him for all eternity because of a mistake he made in his past life. While there’s times he thinks Gary’s his own personal guardian angel, a real life journal that he can spit his feelings at and not have to worry about it biting him in the ass later. Although, he still gets pissed and rationally angry when Gary mentions what a whore his mom is. It’s never specific enough that details the things he’s said in those late hours of makeshift comfort.
Well until that fight on the rooftop, he remembers Gary’s arm around his neck. He’s never seen that amount of hatred in someone’s eyes before. He’s never seen that amount of emotion in Gary’s eyes ever. He laughs to himself at the thought of the only person that could make Gary feel anything was him. He stops when he realizes how fucking weird that is.
He needs to stop thinking about this. He lived. Gary’s long gone. It’s fine. Jimmy’s fine.
Gary’s decisions are on him and he couldn’t do anything to prevent him from spiraling even if he tried. It’s not like he could force those meds down his throat. Although, Gary would probably let Jimmy do that before he even thought of opening up to him.
‘I hate Gary. Gary hates me.’ He repeats in his mind, the second statement persisting longer than it should.
Jimmy glances at the door. Even three months later, he’s waiting for Gary like a dog for its owner.